Slender, not hungry!
I am 163cm tall and weigh 54kgs. I look pretty normal...not too thin or anything. My west african brothers have their own opinion regarding my 54kgs. I meet westies quiet often, not by choice, rather coincidentally. They are very bold, coming straight to you and telling you really funny stuff with their funny accent.
Once I was waiting for the bus, along comes this uga-uga brodah. "Hallo!" he says, smiling like we know each other. I say hi, wearing my 'very serious' face - it is always helpful to maintain that face if you don't feel like getting your ear filled with nonsense!
Next line "I saw you standing there and I see you are beautiful, you must be a good person and I want to know you, so where are you from?" Aiiiiii?!?!?!? I toy with the idea weather I should lie, but today I feel like telling the truth, so I just mumble "Kenya." Then uga-uga goes like "ahhhhhaaaaa, kenyan women are the best, very beautiful." Hmmm, great....I just can't wait for that bus to show up so that I can escape this boring conversation, keeping in mind that I am only giving monosyllabic responses.
The bus is taking its time today, meaning my brodah has a great advantage. Next question, "you speak French?" Although I do, I just say no, to avoid being pulled deeper into conversation, since he is fluent in French and not in English or German! "Oh ok", he says and thinking that is the end of it I look the other way, praying the bus shows up. Brodah is still on my case. " What's your name?" Arrrgggh I am just being polite, answering his questions, but this is going too far....so I lie...I snap "Maria". For some unknown reason this is the name that usually springs out first - 2 years ago it was Janet :-). Next year I will take on something weird like Shabaduu or something complicated Umpootelikantubi :-)
Uga-uga tells me his name, and on top of that, he invites me to go to his place, so that he can cook me a really delicious west african dish! Red flags everywhere. One: You are a stranger Two: You are inviting me for the first date to your place??? Three: Do I look so hungry??? Soooo hungry that one would take a stranger to his place and cook for her????
Well, the bus shows up and I quickly hop into it...after kindly turning down brodah'z invitation and so thankful that I no longer have to listen to his blah-blah! Upon reaching home, I take a look in the mirror. I look fine, I like what I see, and those uga-ugaz who think I could do with a whole load of kilos should walk on by. If ya don't like, don't look! Simple!!!
Once I was waiting for the bus, along comes this uga-uga brodah. "Hallo!" he says, smiling like we know each other. I say hi, wearing my 'very serious' face - it is always helpful to maintain that face if you don't feel like getting your ear filled with nonsense!
Next line "I saw you standing there and I see you are beautiful, you must be a good person and I want to know you, so where are you from?" Aiiiiii?!?!?!? I toy with the idea weather I should lie, but today I feel like telling the truth, so I just mumble "Kenya." Then uga-uga goes like "ahhhhhaaaaa, kenyan women are the best, very beautiful." Hmmm, great....I just can't wait for that bus to show up so that I can escape this boring conversation, keeping in mind that I am only giving monosyllabic responses.
The bus is taking its time today, meaning my brodah has a great advantage. Next question, "you speak French?" Although I do, I just say no, to avoid being pulled deeper into conversation, since he is fluent in French and not in English or German! "Oh ok", he says and thinking that is the end of it I look the other way, praying the bus shows up. Brodah is still on my case. " What's your name?" Arrrgggh I am just being polite, answering his questions, but this is going too far....so I lie...I snap "Maria". For some unknown reason this is the name that usually springs out first - 2 years ago it was Janet :-). Next year I will take on something weird like Shabaduu or something complicated Umpootelikantubi :-)
Uga-uga tells me his name, and on top of that, he invites me to go to his place, so that he can cook me a really delicious west african dish! Red flags everywhere. One: You are a stranger Two: You are inviting me for the first date to your place??? Three: Do I look so hungry??? Soooo hungry that one would take a stranger to his place and cook for her????
Well, the bus shows up and I quickly hop into it...after kindly turning down brodah'z invitation and so thankful that I no longer have to listen to his blah-blah! Upon reaching home, I take a look in the mirror. I look fine, I like what I see, and those uga-ugaz who think I could do with a whole load of kilos should walk on by. If ya don't like, don't look! Simple!!!
This entry was posted
on Saturday, October 08, 2005 at 12:11 AM.
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